Steel(beak) Magnolias
by Tinselcat
Summary: Following an accident at a chemistry lab during a mission for F.O.W.L., Steelbeak wakes up to a rather large shock... this is SLASH Steelbeak/Bushroot. Finished!!
1. Default Chapter

Steel Magnolias  
  
by Tinselcat  
  
Disclaimer: Steelbeak, Bushroot, F.O.W.L. and Saint Canard all belong to the Walt Disney company, and are used without permission.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Summary: Steelbeak gets a bit of a shock…  
  
notes: this first chapter has no slashiness, but never fear, ye faithful, there'll be plenty to go around later, and we'll crank up the rating while we're at it. this first chapter is more of a teaser than anything else.  
  
  
  
**************  
  
Steelbeak staggered into his roomy apartment. He unceremoniously threw his keys and overcoat on the couch, flicking a switch on the wall which closed the curtains of his large windows against the fingers of dawn which slowly crept above the Saint Canard skyline.  
  
*wat a night* he thought to himself as he threw off his dark clothing on his way to the bedroom, *I rob a chemical lab, nea-ly get blown up while I'm at it, and ta top off da poifect night, 'ave a run-in wit' dat mask- wearin' pansy!* he drew the small vial from his pants pocket before depositing them on the floor and examined the clear liquid. *all dat fer some'ting dat could be dish-washin' liquid fer all I know* he popped the vial into a padded envolope and tossed onto his bedside table before crawling into his bed, relishing in the welcome feel of the satin sheets. *wat a night* he thought one more time before drifting off to sleep.  
  
******  
  
Steelbeak awoke to the harsh sound of his cell phone ringing. Groaning, he turned over and tried to ignore it. it persisted, until he finally rolled over, flung his arm outside the covers and groped about on his bedside table for the phone. His hand passed over the padded envelope and closed on his phone. Pulling the ringing monstrosity underneath the covers, he beeped the 'talk' button.  
  
"waddaya want?" he rasped into the phone.  
  
"Agent Steelbeak…"  
  
"yeah, ya wanna make some'tin of it?"  
  
"did you complete your mission?"  
  
"yeah, yeah, I gots da stuff."  
  
"you will report to base in an hour, bring the solution with you."  
  
"youse got it." he grumbled.  
  
The person on the other end hung up.  
  
Swearing at the trio of idiots he called 'bosses', he sat up, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and stood up, stretching.  
  
He immediately noticed that something was wrong. He couldn't name it but… he just felt… different. He padded into the bathroom. When he spotted himself in the full-length mirror, he let out a blood-curdling, high- pitched scream.  
  
*********  
  
Hee hee, yes, I'm evil, I'll admit it. like I said, this is a teaser, kinda like the one at the beginning of X-files or West Wing episodes. In the next chapter, we find out just what happened to poor Steelbeak, and Bushroot enters the story. Oh, and since I'm moving back home for the summer tomorrow, I anticipate being rather busy for the next few days, and I might not post the next chapter for up to a week, as I probably won't have time to write. However, I will be checking out the reviews, so rest assured that I'll see any input/suggestions/comments. I'm also unsure of how I'm writing for Steelbeak so far, I've never written for him before, so I'd appreciate any insight into how I'm doing. Thanks a bunch. 


	2. Secret Fowl Man

Steel(beak) Magnolias: Secret Fowl Man!  
  
By Tinselcat  
  
Disclaimer: Steelbeak, Bushroot, F.O.W.L., the eggmen and Saint Canard are property and creations of the Walt Disney company. They're used without permission. Dr. Kamo Quack belongs to me, thankyouverymuch  
  
Rating: oh, I don't know, PG I guess, there's nothing too sinful in this chapter.  
  
Summary: like I said, Bushroot makes his entrance, we find out what the hell is going on, and Dr. Kamo Quack has a cameo. (those of you who read Dynasty Ducks will recognize her. If you havn't, don't sweat it, the two stories really aren't related.) oh yeah, and there's some slashyness in this chapter, but nothing heavy (yet).  
  
Notes: well, I know I said it'd probably take me a week to get this chapter up, but I thought that this one was already up, and realized it wasn't, and I've been working on it today and got quite a bit done, and I'm liking it so far, so here is the second chapter, hope you like it. (yes, that was all one sentence)  
  
**********  
  
The shadowy trio waited patiently in front of their screen, waiting for the F.O.W.L. logo to switch to the screen showing their infuriating, yet talented agent.  
  
"Where is he?…" one of them asked to no one in particular.  
  
"He should have been here fifteen minutes ago."  
  
"Maybe we should find someone else to take this mission…"  
  
"Everyone else of his experience is unavailable right now. We can't afford to have this mission fall through."  
  
"Agreed, but-"  
  
At that moment, the screen changed to show the Saint Canard base control room. On the screen was Steelbeak, but had they not been expecting him, it might have been hard to tell who stood before them. Their agent wore a wide- brimmed hat, pulled low over his face. A long beige trench coat, buttoned up to the top, covered him completely, only his metallic beak and his black and white shoes visible.  
  
"I see we finally found time in our busy schedule to show up…" hissed one of the shadows.  
  
"er… er, some'ting came up… er, da plumbing at my apartment is backed up. I 'ad ta call da plumbah before I left…" his voice cracked strangely.  
  
"is something… wrong?" another silhouette asked, in a tone that made it clear that it wasn't Steelbeak's well-being that he was concerned with.  
  
"er, er, just great. I gots a bit of a cold, but, eh, no biggie." His voice cracked again.  
  
The three shadows exchanged looks, but continued to talk, "do you have the chemical solution?"  
  
He presented the envelope, and produced the vial from inside.  
  
"Good. As you know, this is a catalyst that can increase the speed of chemical reactions that must take place in order for certain acidic corrosive agents to work. It's big on the theiving equipment market. Fortunately, we already have a buyer." A picture of a middle-aged, paunchy canine came on the screen. His brown-furred skin drooped over his eyes, his ears flopped down. "This is Sir Percival Gruff. He's willing to pay us an excellent price for the catalyst. Tomorrow night he will be having dinner at the 'Seeking Skylines' restaurant. You will rendezvous with him there. He doesn't know what you look like. You will approach him and tell him 'fowls fly west this time of year.' That's how he'll know who you are."  
  
"gee, youse guys must'a really wracked yer creative minds fer dat catch phrase."  
  
The shadows visibly stiffened, but said, "you will make the exchange at the restaurant. Be there at 8:00, he'll be at a table in the back, by the windows. You are to receive the payment in cash in a briefcase. If something goes wrong, there will be an agent on the first floor of the building there to aid you. You know the 'fall-through' number."  
  
"yeah."  
  
"you're to call the base after you complete your mission."  
  
"no problem."  
  
the screen in front of Steelbeak switched back to the F.O.W.L. logo, leaving Steelbeak alone in the control room.  
  
He exited the room, casually waving his I.D. tag at the security eggman at the door, not checking to see if the short bird actually saw it. He resisted the urge to whack it upside the head just because he was in that kind of mood.  
  
What to do, what to do? He needed help, but who could he confide in? It was just his luck that he had one mission on top of another, at a time like this. He needed a scientist, that was for sure. This had to have something to do with the explosion at he chemistry lab he had broken into. His mind raced through the scientists he knew, mostly F.O.W.L. employees who would have far too much fun "researching" his little dilemma. Then the green face of a certain duck-plant hybrid came to mind. He didn't know the plant-nut too well, but considering his alternatives… he hurried to his car, and headed toward Bushroot's secluded greenhouse.  
  
**********  
  
After having slept the greater part of the day, and then going in for his meeting with F.O.W.L., it was already dusk when his metallic red Porsche pulled up as close to the plant-duck's greenhouse as he could get.  
  
As he walked toward it, his hands thrust deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched, he reviewed just how to get in: he could come through the roof and rappel down on a rope… nah, he didn't need to be that flashy. He could sneak in a window… but he had heard that the scientist had mutant- killer plants in his garden, and Steelbeak didn't fancy getting eaten by a plant, of all stupid things. In the end, he just went up to the door and knocked.  
  
He heard a growling coming from inside. Then a soft voice saying "calm down spike, we don't know who it is… just stay there…" the door opened a crack, and a green face peeked out, "yes? Who is it?"  
  
"It's Steelbeak. Let me in." he said gruffly, not wasting any time on his usual pointless pleasantries.  
  
"er, uh, sure." Responded the duck, hastily moving aside as the taller bird pushed his way inside. "how can I help you?" asked Bushroot, closing the door behind Steelbeak.  
  
"I gots a bit of a problem. I got no idea a'wat ta do about it. yer a scientist, I'm 'oping ya can fix this."  
  
"Uh… fix what?"  
  
Keeping the hat on, Steelbeak shed his large coat, revealing a shirt that looked oddly lumpy. He unbuttoned the first two buttons, and began pulling out articles of clothing, which had been stuffed into his shirt.  
  
Bushroot looked on with eyes as big as saucers as, with every piece of clothing that came out of Steelbeak's shirt, the agent seemed to get smaller in the torso. Finally, the last piece of clothing (a rather hideous Hawaiian shirt) was pulled from inside the light blue silk shirt that Steelbeak wore. He reached up and took off his hat.  
  
Bushroot clamped his leafy hands over his beak to keep from making some sort of shocked sound, probably somewhere between a scream and a laugh.  
  
The red flap of skin which hung from Steelbeak's chin was gone, as was his proud red crest. Instead, locks of bright red hair fell about his shoulders. His shoulders were much narrower, and Bushroot could see that he was a few inches shorter. Sitting on his chest were two rather large breasts, and his hips curved outward from a narrower waist.  
  
Bushroot made a series of small, squeaking sounds. Steelbeak was afraid that the scientist may faint, but then saw the twiching edges of his trembling mouth.  
  
"don' even 'tink about it, dandelion-'ead…"  
  
"s-sorry…" gasped Bushroot, "I- I just…" he abruptly spun around, his shoulders shaking violently, uttering more squeaking sounds he tried to trap in his throat. He finally regained his composure and turned around. "o- okay. Well, I see what you meant when you said you had a problem." he stifled the grin that pulled at the sides of his mouth.  
  
"Yeah, I'd say I got a *big* problem! Youse could say my biggest problems're sittin' 'ere on my chest!" he scowled at his breasts as if they presented a personal insult to him.  
  
"er, if it makes any difference, you look pretty good…"  
  
Steelbeak gave him an acid, withering look.  
  
"o-kay, well then, maybe you should tell me what happened, and I'll see if I can do something about your, er… situation."  
  
Steelbeak sat dejectedly down on a nearby bench and sighed, "okay, well, y'see, I was doin' a mission fer F.O.W.L., dat involved stealin' from a chemistry lab. I accidentaly knocked ovah some chemicals, dere was an explosion, I managed to get 'ome, went ta bed, an' woke up like *dis*!" he gestured at his curvaceous figure.  
  
"uh, are you… er…" Bushroot blushed.  
  
"spit it out."  
  
"umm… are you *all* female?… I mean,"  
  
"I know what ya mean. An' yeah, I'm a goil from da waist down as well."  
  
"well, this is certainly a problem." Bushroot sighed, his initial shyness dissipating in the face of a new scientific dilemma to think about, "I think I may be able to help you, but I can't do it myself. We need to contact another scientist." Bushroot headed over to the telephone, which was currently hidden by a plethora of crawling, flowering vines.  
  
"'ey, who're ya callin'?" Steelbeak hurried after him nervously.  
  
Bushroot shooed the vines away from the phone. They curled reluctantly away from it. "someone I met a week ago, when we were…" he stopped, and looked toward the lotus plant which resided in its own plastic tub nearby. Curled near it was his mutant venus fly-trap, spike. "er, it doesn't matter how we met, but she has some knowledge of biology in a more general sense, and probably knows as much about anatomy and genetics as I do about plants." He jabbered on as he dialed information, "botany and the other disciplines of biology really go hand-in-hand, and I'm sure the two of us can come up with some way to… hello? Yes, I'd like to contact a Dr. Kamo Quack… yes, here in the city… uh, her work place, please, if you have it."  
  
Steelbeak raised an eyebrow at Bushroot.  
  
Bushroot covered the receiver with his hand, "she keeps late hours." He uncovered it, "…yes, thank you very much." He waited as the phone rang, while Steelbeak paced back and forth. "Hello?" he said after several seconds "Dr. Quack?… This is Reg… er… Bushroot. Do you remember me? W-well, when you took that little, er, trip to egypt… Yeah, I'm the green one. I… yes, I know it's unexpected, and I realize you really don't know me very well, but I need your help with something. Could I meet you at your lab, with a… er… friend of mine?… No, I promise I'm not up to anything, contrary to my reputation… I'm sorry you're busy, but this is a scientific situation… I see, well, I understand if you're not up to a challenge, it would be very difficult… of course you can. Thank you, I'll see you in a few minutes." He hung up and smiled to himself.  
  
"Who is dis broad, anyway?" Steelbeak crossed his arms over his chest. "Youse wouldn't be rattin' me out ta da police, would ya?"  
  
Bushroot shook his hands in front of him, "no, of course not."  
  
"good. Let's go." Steelbeak shrugged back into his overcoat and headed out the door. Spike growled at him as he passed. He glowered at the mutant plant, but decided against "making something of it".  
  
**********  
  
They rode in silence, Bushroot stealing furtive glances to the side to see Steelbeak, eyes intentely straight ahead, bright red hair blowing in the wind. Despite his change, he still looked comfortable in the slick car, as if he were born to drive it. Bushroot directed him to the University of Saint Canard science buildings. They pulled up in front of the main building in the sciences complex. Bushroot led the way, going to a door in the back of the building. Steelbeak followed, hunched into his coat, glowering ahead of him, as if the maincured lawn itself had insulted him. Bushroot knocked lightly on the door. It was opened by a be speckled duck woman with light brown feathers, tipped with dark brown, the same color as her rather unruly hair she kept tied behind her head. When she spotted Bushroot, she gave a hesitant smile, as if unsure if it was appropriate, which Bushroot returned shyly.  
  
She saw Steelbeak nodded curtly to him, and gestured them both inside.  
  
Within a few minutes they were all standing in Dr. Quack's lab room, Steelbeak looking expectantly at the two scientists Dr. Quack looked him up and down and Bushroot, arms crossed, judged her reaction.  
  
"pretty amazing." Was all she could say after hearing Steelbeak's story.  
  
"yeah. Whatever happened changed just the genotypes that make him male."  
  
"in essence, his 'Y' became an 'X'."  
  
"that's what I gathered."  
  
"an impressive change."  
  
"'ey!" Steelbeak snapped, grabbing the attention of the two scientists, "I could be menstruatin' over 'ere, an youse two're gabbin' about de damn alphabet!"  
  
Dr. Quack adjusted her glasses on her bill, raising her eyebrows at the rooster-turned-chicken standing before her, "when we refer to 'X' and 'Y' we are, of course, referring to the two types of chromosomes that determine- "  
  
"I don' give a damn wat dey determine!" Steelbeak waved his hands in the air frantically, "jus' fix it! I gots a meetin' wid a very important client t'marra night, an' I ain't goin' while still producin' estrogen!  
  
Bushroot looked helplessly at Dr. Quack. she crossed her arms across her chest in a no-nonsense manner, "unfortunately, you may not have a choice. While I am certainly one of the greatest scientific minds ever to grace this city" she paused for dramatic effect, while Steelbeak gave her a strange look and Bushroot only sighed and rolled his eyes, "there are events which even an eminent, exalted genius such as myself cannot bring about without a small amount of aide. I shall have to speak with my colleague, a professor of biology and genetics about this. don't worry," she held up a hand to halt Steelbeak as he opened his mouth to object, "I shall be the utter soul of discretion. I'll introduce the topic as a theoretical subject of debate. If he can't think of something, I'd start shopping for bras."  
  
Steelbeak slapped a palm to his forehead, "Jeezus, I'm gonna be stuck like dis forevah!"  
  
Dr. Quack sniffed, "don't be so pessimistic. And I'd suggest getting out of that meeting, as I doubt you'll be back to your old self in time for it."  
  
Bushroot thanked Dr. Quack and scheduled a time to check back with her the following evening. Steelbeak reluctantly gave her the number of his cell phone.  
  
"I'm sure she'll think of something." Bushroot said as the pair walked back to Steelbeak's car, "I know she's got a big ego, but she really is quite smart."  
  
"yeah, well, she'd bettah be." Steelbeak growled in reply.  
  
Bushroot wilted slightly at the menacing tone of voice which Steelbeak used, but consoled himself that he had done nothing to bring it on. Hell, if *he'd* woke up to find he was a woman, he'd be grouchy, too. Once again, they rode in silence.  
  
In ten minutes, Steelbeak pulled up near Bushroot's greenhouse to drop him off. "I'll be 'ere ta pick youse up at 5:00 sharp."  
  
"w-what?" stammered Bushroot.  
  
"wat, ya don't tink I'm doin dis meetin' by myself, do ya? Steelbeak always gots a lady on 'is arm, for da social occasions, an' since I don' tink da goils would react well ta dis situation, you're gonna be my date."  
  
Bushroot stared at Steelbeak as if he'd spouted a second head. He dumbly got out of the car and closed the door, walking to his greenhouse in a stupor as Steelbeak sped off. He just couldn't believe it. Steelbeak, the suave, the savvy, the smooth, wanted him, Reginald Bushroot, to be his date. Hell, he could probably snatch up any guy in the city in his present state, yet, somehow, he'd be pulling up once again beside Bushroot's greenhouse at 5:00 tomorrow.  
  
Bushroot tried to make sense of it all in his mind as he fumbled with the lock on his door. The only reason Steelbeak would take him out was because he knew about his problem. That was it. Why else would the secret agent be seen in public with him? He patted Spike on the head as he entered, closing and locking the door behind him. He flopped down into a large flowerpot and sighed. Whatever was he going to wear?  
  
*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~  
  
Notes on pronouns: so, now that you know what Steelie's situation is, you're probably wondering why I keep referring to Female-Steelie as a 'him'. Well, here's why: Steelbeak's change wasn't intentional, and he still thinks of himself as a 'him'. In this story, he's not a female; he's a guy who is quite literally trapped inside a female's body. So, there ya go, you don't have to yell at me about it now.  
  
More notes: this is where I whine for reviews. Seriously, I'm not sure how I'm writing for Steelbeak, as I mentioned before, this is my first time (writing for Steelbeak, of course), so please let me know if I'm doing okay, or if I'm completely off the mark. I appreciate it, folks. 


	3. To Quack Foo: T'anks Fer Every'ting

1 Steel(beak) Magnolias: To Quack Foo: T'anks Fer Every'ting  
  
By Tinselcat  
  
Rating: PG. Okay, I know I promised previously that I would crank up the rating, but I wanted to get another chapter up, and next one really will have more action, I promise! It won't stay tame! That would go against my principles…  
  
Disclaimer: Steelbeak, Bushroot, FOWL and Saint Canard are all property and creations of the Walt Disney company, used without permission (big surprise, that.). Dr. Kamo Quack is all mine, but if you want to use her in a story, just email me and ask.  
  
Summary: Steelbeak and Bushroot go…*dramatic music* SHOPPING!!  
  
  
  
*********  
  
Steelbeak found the sensation of the wind blowing his hair not entirely unpleasant. Not that he wouldn't take back his large red crest in an instant. Thinking about Bushroot and how wide his eyes had gotten when Steelbeak announced that he was his date forced a smile onto the agent's beak. So what if Bushroot's looks were a bit on the unusual side, he was actually kinda… cute. The way he hesitated to make eye contact, and blushed when approaching delicate subjects was rather endearing. And the way he immediately brightened and seemed to come into his element when talking science was… *wat da 'ell am I tinkin'?* thought Steelbeak frantically, *not only is dis guy a tree-huggin' nutcase, 'e's also a walkin', talkin' unnatural 'istory exhibit! Now dat's just freaky!* surprisingly, the fact that Bushroot *was* a guy didn't bother him that much. Hell, it didn't bother him at *all*. He found the prospect of going out with the shy botanist rather appealing. Well, what the hell, it was just one night, why not make the best of it?  
  
He finally pulled into his parking space, and entered his building through the back, not wanting to raise any suspicions by the doorman or the lobby clerk. He made his way into his apartment and flopped into bed, not bothering to ditch his clothes. He rolled over and closed his eyes, falling into an easy sleep.  
  
************  
  
"…Already? Thank you… he should be here any minute, I'll tell him. Are you at the lab now, can we just pick it up?… great… Actually, I'm not sure what he wants to do for three hours before his meeting, but I can only guess that he has a plan… *ahem* I'm s-sure that that's not what he had in m- mind… oh, I can see his car now. See you in a few minutes. Bye." Bushroot hung up the phone, all-too-aware that his face was still hot with embarrassment. *some people!* he thought to himself as he unlocked the door, *really, I don't see how she could suggest that Steelbeak might be interested in…* his thoughts trailed off as Steelbeak entered his greenhouse, scowling at spike who growled in response.  
  
He was wearing his usual clothes, though his belt was cinched tight and the coat and trousers hung loosely off of him. He also wore his hat. Bushroot mused that he seemed to be in a better mood, though still far from thrilled.  
  
"Dr. Quack just called. She thinks she may have a solution, she wants us to meet her at her lab to pick it up." Bushroot threw on his black trenchcoat and donned his own hat over his bushy purple hair.  
  
"okay, den. Let's go."  
  
The odd pair were somewhat more conversational while driving through the city this time.  
  
"er, so, uh… what is it that you want to do between now and your meeting?" asked Bushroot, his face reddening at the thought of what Dr. Quack had suggested over the phone.  
  
"I ain't showin' up ta my meetin' dressed like dis. I gotta find somethin' dat fits! An' dat includs undaweah an' shoes an' stuff. Plus, I gotta do some'tin wid my 'air!" he absently tossed said hair over his shoulder in a casual move which Bushroot found entirely too attractive.  
  
Within 15 minutes they were, once again, in Dr. Quack's laboratory, where she was holding two syringes, filled with a cloudy, colorless liquid toward Bushroot. "My colleague says that a solution such as this should work. Based on what I know of what happened to you, this should hopefully reverse the process. I'm not sure how long it will take, so you should probably plan on the process taking at least as long as the first one. I would also recommend going to sleep immediately after the first injection, as that may have something to do with the change, we don't want to take any chances."  
  
Bushroot took the syringes and peered into them, "what's in this?"  
  
"well, there's a form of chemically altered testosterone, as well as some of the other ingredients you would find in steroids. I added a chemical catalyst that should hopefully speed up the reaction once the solution is in his system."  
  
"should we use both at once?"  
  
"well, the second one is more of a precautionary booster. If you don't see any change within 12 hours of the first injection, the second one probably won't do any good either. However, if there is any change at all after 12 hours, even if you seem to be completely back to normal, I would use the second injection anyway. It's basically there to make sure the process doesn't reverse or anything."  
  
Bushroot nodded in comprehension and pocketed the two syringes. "Thanks a lot." He smiled hesitantly at the other scientist.  
  
For some crazy reason, Steelbeak felt jealous of the doctor. "well, as much as I'd love to sit an' talk science, da green-guy an' I got some errands ta run. Catch ya later, doc." He threaded his arm around Bushroot's. Bushroot gave him a startled look, then quickly broke eye-contact, his face reddening.  
  
"good luck." Said Dr. Quack as Steelbeak and Bushroot headed toward the door, "let me know how it goes."  
  
"so, umm… where are we going?" asked Bushroot as they got in Steelbeak's car.  
  
"I dunno. Ta go grab somthin' off the sales-rack. No point in lookin' nice."  
  
"why not?"  
  
Steelbeak snorted, "look at me, leaf-brain. I wouldn't even fit inta an extra-small Armani, fer chrissake! It ain't like I can look impressive like dis!"  
  
"but Steelbeak, you've always taken pride in your image. Why should this be any different?"  
  
"because… w-well, because… I dunno. I ain't exactly cut out ta wear a dress, am I?"  
  
"I think you'd look nice. I mean, you've always looked nice before" Bushroot grinned, "you'd probably look good in a potato sack, female or not."  
  
Steelbeak looked quickly over at Bushroot who blushed again and suddenly seemed to find the dashboard very interesting. Steelbeak returned his eyes to the road and smiled to himself. "okay, den. We spare no expense. 'ell, I can afford it. where to foist?"  
  
they cruised through the streets of the expensive shopping district. Steelbeak pulled up in front of *Feathoria's Secret*. "wat?" he said at Bushroot's stunned expression, "youse don't tink I'm walkin' inta dat restaurant wid'out a bra, do ya?"  
  
"er, er, I think I'll just wait out here for you" said Bushroot nervously.  
  
"wat, ya don't wanna help me pick som'ting out?" Steelbeak asked mischievously as he got out of the car.  
  
Bushroot stared, bug-eyed at the agent as he snickered and headed into the store. *was he flirting with me?* his stunned mind thought, *no way… but… I suppose he could have been… but why?* these nervous thoughts continued to race through his head until Steelbeak emerged from the lingerie store, a plastic bag in one hand and his coat and hat in the other. Bushroot tried as hard as he could not to look at the bag, though he found he was curious as to what, exactly, was inside.  
  
"alright, now fer a dress. An' yer gonna need some'tin too." Steelbeak raced off, hair whipping about his face. He pulled in front of another, larger store with glittering dresses displayed in the window on one side of the glass double-doors, and handsome suits in the other. "I get all my suits 'ere, but I gotta admit, I neva been in da ladies department yet!" he found a parking space and eagerly led Bushroot inside the store.  
  
Surrounded by so many styles and fashions, and the smell of new clothes, Bushroot felt as if he were in a foreign country. A store attendant walked briskly up to them. Bushroot immediately felt slightly threatened by the perfume and makeup-wearing woman. Her outfit was spotless, and her stiletto heels looked like they could impale a person.  
  
"'ey there," said Steelbeak, "we're lookin' fer-"  
  
"don't speak!" the woman held up a hand dramatically as she looked them both over.  
  
Steelbeak's beak snapped shut with a 'clang'.  
  
"Gracious!" she exclaimed, "you do need help, don't you? the 'casual cross- dresser' look went out *months* ago!" she grabbed Steelbeak's hand and practically dragged him into the ladies department. Bushroot followed behind. She grabbed a few dresses, seemingly at random, from a rack, thrust them at Steelbeak, and shoved him toward a dressing room, "now, you try those on, we'll see if we can't fix up something for your boyfriend."  
  
"b-but, I'm not… I'm not…" stuttered Bushroot as he, in turn, was dragged to the men's department.  
  
"I see you in black. Possibly silver… and definitely with shoulder-pads, because, darling, you're as cute as a ring-tailed lemur,"  
  
"a what?"  
  
"but you need to make a strong impression on people! We'll get you some hair gel, too, static's a bitch this time of year, don't you think?"  
  
"uh…"  
  
"well, no matter. You'll look like the alpha stud-muffin once I'm through with you!"  
  
the next few minutes passed in a blur as Bushroot numbly took the orders of the woman who was throwing various articles of clothing at him and ordering him to try them on. He wasn't even sure what he ended up with when he was ushered back to the ladies department with a suit over one arm. The woman sat him down in a padded chair in front of the three mirrors which stood next to the changing room.  
  
"how is it coming in there?" the attendant called into Steelbeak's dressing room.  
  
"'ow da 'ell do youse people get dese damn zippers up? An' where da 'ell does dis strap go? I already gots, like, five! I don't know whether ta lace this part up, or use it ta keep dis damn thing on my chest!"  
  
Bushroot hid a smile behind his hand, as he imagined a very tangled Steelbeak trying to figure out how to wear the dress.  
  
"come out, it can't be that difficult!" said the attendant. "oh, excuse me!" she bustled out as another victim came through the door, with a lost look on his face.  
  
Steelbeak stepped out of the dressing room in a hidious bright pink monstrosity with far too many frills. He stepped in front of the mirror. "'oly shit!" he turned to Bushroot, "am I a lady, or a birthday cake? Whaddaya think?"  
  
"err… it's not really your color, is it?"  
  
"yeah, I look like an easter egg! Ta 'ell wid dis get-up! Gimme some'tin a little simpler." He gathered the excess frills into his hands and stalked back into the changing room. After a few bumps, grunts and swears, he came out in a pale blue dress, covered in sequins. He looked at himself in the mirror. "well?" he said, addressing Bushroot.  
  
"umm… it's… nice…" Bushroot said, tentatively.  
  
"christ, I could blind someone wid dis 'ting!" he looked at Bushroot over his shoulder, "plus, I 'tink it makes my ass look big. Does dis dress make me look fat?" he turned to Bushroot and planted his hands on his hips.  
  
"w-well…" Bushroot suddenly started to sweat. This was a question he had never expected to be asked after the little accident which had rendered him thus. "it's rather… sparkly…"  
  
"yer right, too much glitter. I'd go fer some'tin a little more subdued." He marched back into the dressing room. Bushroot sighed and stared about him as he heard more bumping and cursing coming from the dressing room. Finally, the door opened once more. He prepared himself for something covered with lace and gauze but, when he caught site of his 'date', his breath caught. The sheath-dress had an empire waist which switched from satin to a velvety fabric just below the bust. It was a dark, rich wine- red, with slits up the sides that came to mid-thigh.  
  
"well? whaddaya 'tink? Another dead-end?"  
  
"wow…" breathed Bushroot.  
  
Steelbeak gave him a puzzled look.  
  
"I-I mean…" he took a deep breath, "Steelbeak, you look very beautiful in that dress." To his chagrin, his bold words came out in a high-pitched, squeaky voice and, to no one's surprise, blushed again. However, he made himself hold eye contact to see Steelbeak's reaction.  
  
Steelbeak smiled, "t'anks, Bushroot. It means a lot." He said quietly. He returned to the dressing room and eventually emerged in his own pants and shirt. "almost done." He said.  
  
Their final stop was the shoe department, where they were once more assaulted by the enthusiastic attendant, who nearly killed them both with various flying strappy platforms.  
  
They finally staggered out of the store, laden with vestments, with the attendant spraying them with cologne and perfume with names like "canard klein's 'bored'".  
  
They made it to the 'Seeking Skylines' building, the rest being a hotel, and changed in the restrooms in the foyer. Steelbeak, having almost gone into the gentleman's room with Bushroot, emerged from the lady's room complaining about his bra. They deposited their other clothes in Steelbeak's car, and headed up to the elevators. Bushroot stole repeated glances at Steelbeak as they rode up, getting more nervous by the moment. for every floor they went up, Steelbeak seemed more at ease, especially in the posh surroundings.  
  
"ya ready ta spend an evening wid da big wheels?" asked Steelbeak, stunning Bushroot with a dazzling smile as he took his arm.  
  
"s-sure." Bushroot smiled back. The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out.  
  
************  
  
Notes: I know this story, so far, is not what many would call Slash, but I promise that Steelbeak won't be a female for the whole thing, and we'll get some good, old-fashioned slashyness in there. But hey, don't you want to know what kind of underwear he bought? *snickers* anyway, yeah, I think that's all I have to say about this for now. I should hope that, by now, I don't have to beg for reviews, but I probably will end up doing it anyway… 


	4. The Crowing Game

Steel(beak) Magnolias: The Crowing Game  
  
Rated: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: All the characters in this story except for Gruff and Dr. Quack belong to Disney. Note: I am soooo sorry about the mix-up the first time I uploaded this. Something's kinda weird with my computer, personally, I think it's possessed, so I apologize profusely.  
  
  
  
************ They were seated with a glass of wine each by 7:45. Steelbeak kept his eyes constantly sweeping the room for Percival Gruff. He found the candlelight to be very distracting. It softened the edges of everything, and bathed the table in its gentle golden light. *it's dat damn candlelight* he thought to himself as his eyes strayed toward Bushroot for the umpteenth time that evening, *it's doin' some'tin weird. Makin' him look. I dunno* Steelbeak tried to search for the appropriate adjective in his mind, unaware that Bushroot had noticed him staring.  
  
"uh, Steelbeak? Is something wrong?"  
  
"wat?!" he jumped in his seat, nearly knocking over his wineglass, "n-no, nothin'. I'm just spacin' out, that's all. I'd bettah ask da host ta see if dis guy's shown up yet." he rose and wove his way through the dancers. He tried to ignore the looks the couples gave each other, as if the rest of the world dissappeared, dancing to their own music as opposed to the soft jazz which the band played.  
  
"may I help you, ma'am?" asked the host as Steelbeak approached him.  
  
At first, Steelbeak couldn't figure out who he was talking to, "oh, er, yeah. 'as sir Percival Gruff gotten 'ere yet?"  
  
the host raised an eyebrow at Steelbeak.  
  
"I gots a meetin' wid 'im." The host looked at his ledger, "yes, he just came in. he's seated over there." He pointed to a table on the opposite of the room from Steelbeak's.  
  
"t'anks, babe."  
  
"er, you're welcome, madam."  
  
Steelbeak returned to his table to grab the purse, in the same shade as his dress, that the attendant insisted he buy. It had turned out to be the perfect carrying case for the padded envelope.  
  
"is he here?" asked Bushroot  
  
"yeah. I should only be a few minutes."  
  
"good luck, Steelbeak." Said Bushroot as Steelbeak turned.  
  
Steelbeak stopped, and turned back toward Bushroot. "um." he looked down at the table, "my name's Valentino. Valentino Volatili. Youse can call me dat, if ya want." He met Bushroot's eyes for a milisecond, then hurried toward the table where FOWL's client sat. Bushroot looked after him. He blinked. Steelbeak had just given him his real name. Was this a big deal? He had seemed nervous when giving the name to Bushroot. Did it *mean* something. Bushroot shook his head at the table and took a drink of his wine. It couldn't mean anything. He took another drink. Nothing at all.  
  
Steelbeak approached the table. The canine wasn't overweight, but certainly well-fleshed, as if he had lived a life of too little excersize and too many steaks. Steelbeak stood at the table and impatiently tapped his stiletto heel until his contact, buried in a roll, noticed him.  
  
"may I help you, miss?"  
  
Steelbeak immediately disliked the man, and felt uncomfortable under his sharp gaze. Steelbeak tilted his beak upwards and looked down it toward Percival, "fowls fly west dis time 'a yeah." He said, trying not to sound like a complete idiot as he did so.  
  
"you're from FOWL?"  
  
Steelbeak sat down at the table opposite him, "why don't ya just shout it, eh? We could always use more publicity." He hissed.  
  
"er. sorry, you're just." he looked Steelbeak up and down, "not what I expected."  
  
"oh no?"  
  
"you see, I was expecting a. uhm. you know, a."  
  
"you can take up yer sexism issues wid FOWL, now do you wanna do dis exchange or not?"  
  
"of course. Do you have it?"  
  
Steelbeak produced the envelope from his purse. He jerked it out of Percival's reach as the canine grabbed for it. "you gots da dough?"  
  
"what's your name?" asked Gruff as he reached into his jacket.  
  
"Stee. er, Valen. er, Valerie."  
  
Sir Percival held out a check to Steelbeak.  
  
Steelbeak looked at it, then looked back at Percival, raising an eyebrow, "tell me yer kiddin'."  
  
Sir Percival Gruff smiled then, "I see you're a sharp one. very well. underneath the table is a briefcase. The money, in cash, is in there."  
  
Steelbeak maneuvered the case with his feet, toward his chair. He grasped the case and pulled it into his lap. Still retaining the envelope, he opened it slightly. He saw neatly stacked wads of $100 bills. He snapped the case shut, and handed Percival the envelope. "it's been nice doin' business wid ya," he stood, taking the case, "shop again wid FOWL." He trotted off, to happily join Bushroot once more.  
  
The plant-duck, upon seeing him return, perked up and smiled. His smile faltered, however, as Steelbeak approached the table. "'ey, what is it?"  
  
Steelbeak felt a heavy hand on his shoulder  
  
"may I trouble you for a dance?" it was Gruff. "it would only be polite. Or does FOWL not extend that courtesy?"  
  
Steelbeak rolled his eyes, sighed and turned around, "fine, but a short one. I'll be right back, reggie." He followed Gruff onto the dance floor.  
  
"your husband is. interesting looking." Gruff took one of Steelbeak's hands in his own, and wrapped the other about Steelbeak's waist.  
  
"He ain't my 'usband, and you gotta problem wid 'ow he looks?"  
  
"Ah, he's your boyfriend?"  
  
"Yes. No! what's it ta youse, anyway?"  
  
"Please, don't take it the wrong way. I'm just trying to make conversation."  
  
Steelbeak had a feeling that that wasn't all he was trying to do.  
  
"I don't suppose that you'd like to continue our. business. in my hotel room." his hand moved downward until it grasped Steelbeak's buttock.  
  
With a gasp and an outraged squeal, Steelbeak stepped back and slapped his hand sharply across Gruff's face.  
  
The canine smiled, "a feisty one, aren't you.?"  
  
"I'll give ya feisty, ya asshole!!" he brought his fist back and smashed it into Gruff's jaw.  
  
Gruff staggered back, holding his jaw, with a shocked look on his face.  
  
"I'm willin' ta ferget dis little incident, but youse try anothah stupid stunt like dat, an not only will ya nevah do business wid FOWL ever again, I'll see to it personally dat you'll nevah be able ta show yer ugly face in polite society again!" Steelbeak turned to find a very concerned Bushroot standing behind him.  
  
"are you alright?" his brow was furrowed with worry.  
  
To add scathing insult to injury, Steelbeak grabbed Bushroot, placed the duck's leafy hands scandalously low on his back, wrapped his arms around a blushing Bushroot's shoulders, and smirked at Gruff.  
  
Gruff, trying to ignore the haughty, scornful stares being shot in his direction, smoothed out the front of his suit and bowed, "It was lovely meeting you, Valerie." He muttered, then spun on his heel and stomped off.  
  
"dat'll teach 'im ta mess wid me!" Steelbeak muttered, "fer anyone ta tink dat I'm dat kind a' goil." he scoffed.  
  
Bushroot couldn't hold back a smile, "what kind of girl are you, 'Valerie'?"  
  
Steelbeak, realizing what he'd said, blushed in turn and grinned at Bushroot, "I'm a decent kinda goil. Jus' because I woik as a spy fer an international theiving organization don't mean I sleep around."  
  
"of course." Said Bushroot.  
  
After three minutes of Bushroot and Steelbeak alternately stepping on each other's feet, Steelbeak exclaimed, "wait a minute! Who da 'ell is leading?!"  
  
"well, traditionally, the man is supposed to."  
  
"ta 'ell wid tradition, I wanna tango!"  
  
"but I don't know how!"  
  
Steelbeak grabbed Bushroot's hand, thrust their clasped hands in front of them, pressed himself against the startled scientist, and stomped across the room. Once they reached the end of the dance floor, Steelbeak swung Bushroot down into a dip "dat's 'ow ya tango!" he exclaimed. He realized how close their faces were. He felt Bushroot's breath in his face, and felt the pounding of his own heart growing faster.  
  
Abruptly, both parties straightened, looking at the floor.  
  
"err, I ordered for both of us. I hope that's alright. The food might be ready, now." without waiting for Steelbeak's reply, Bushroot headed off in the direction of their table.  
  
They sat across from each other, their eyes glued to their plates. Steelbeak grabbed his wineglass and finished it in one gulp. He immediately ordered another bottle . Thirty minutes later, Steelbeak sat, slumped, in his chair, staring unashamedly at Bushroot through half-closed eyes. He saw the world through a pleasant haze, made golden by the candlelight.  
  
Bushroot, who's face seemed to be permanently flushed for the evening, was still nursing his second glass of wine and nibbling on a roll. He would periodically risk a glance up to Steelbeak's face, and immediately lower his eyes once again, as he confirmed that Steelbeak was still staring at him.  
  
"y'know, yer pretty cute, b-Bushroot." Steelbeak's words were slurred with alcohol. He slumped down in his chair, and, freeing one foot from his shoe, began to run his foot up the inside of Bushroot's leg. "a goil'z gotta be pretty lucky t'be zeen wid' youse, I can tell ya."  
  
Bushroot, looking alarmed, grasped Steelbeak's foot in his hand before it could reach his crotch. "I- I think maybe you've had enough wine for tonight."  
  
Steelbeak leaned forward, giving bushoot an eyefull of his impressive cleavage. "'re youse suggestin' dat I can't 'old my drinkz?"  
  
"well, no, of course not, but-"  
  
Steelbeak abruptly stood up, swaying on his feet and gulped his last swallow of wine before declaring, "I'm'n italien, get it? if anyone c'n 'old dere wine, I can!" he grabbed the arm of a passing waitress, "gimme anothah bottle, willya babe?"  
  
feeling suddenly protective of his inebriated companion, Bushroot stood up and took Steelbeak's arm gently, and managed to pry the wineglass from his hand. He grabbed the briefcase full of money, gave the waitress an apologetic look as he steered Steelbeak toward the front of the restaurant.  
  
It took the rooster a full ten minutes to pay for their meal and get his coat on. He leaned heavily on Bushroot's shoulder as they took the elevator down.  
  
"I think I'd better drive." Suggested Bushroot as they left the elevator and headed toward the glass double-doors.  
  
"why? B'cause yer a guy? 'c-cause yer da big macho man? It's 'cause I'm a woman, ain't it?"  
  
"it's because you're drunk." Stated Bushroot frankly.  
  
A porter politely opened the door for them.  
  
"I am not!" scoffed Steelbeak, right before he walked past the porter and right into a wall. He complained as Bushroot extracted the keys from his purse, "I wanna talk ta whoever put dat damn wall dere! It's a p-public 'azard! I'm contactin' da mayor about dis!" he called back to the porter who gave Bushroot a sympathetic look. They managed to make it to the car, where Steelbeak abruptly passed out in the passanger seat while Bushroot drove.  
  
Bushroot managed to get the car to Steelbeak's apartment building and, after much shoving and pulling, got the rooster into his apartment. Steelbeak kept sliding his hands under Bushroot's jacket as Bushroot led him into his bedroom.  
  
"so, what're yer planz fer da rest of da night?" asked Steelbeak seductively as he reached behind him to unzip the dress, "ya wanna help me wid dis?"  
  
Bushroot began to sweat profusely as he unzipped the dress. Before he could see what kind of underwear Steelbeak had purchased, he turned to the door, with the intention of going through it. Steelbeak would have no such thing. Surprisingly swift and agile for someone so drunk, he grabbed Bushroot's shoulders from behind and, in one movement, spun him around and pushed him onto the bed. his eyes nearly popped from his head as he saw Steelbeak's black lace-trimmed, leapord-print bra and panties. Steelbeak straddled Bushroot's hips and immediately began working on the buttons to his shirt. "why not stay awhile?" he growled.  
  
"wait! Steelbeak. Valentino," Steelbeak paused and looked up at Bushroot's useage of his real name. Bushroot grasped Steelbeak by his shoulders, "we can't, Valentino. It wouldn't be right. you're not thinking straight right now."  
  
Steelbeak simply stared at him for a moment, considering what Bushroot had said. He finally sighed and climbed off of the relieved plant-duck. Bushroot quickly stood and averted his eyes as Steelbeak stripped out of his underwear in favor of a pair of boxer shorts and a large nightshirt,  
  
"it seems I c'n attract anyone I want. 'cept maybe you." his tone seemed sad, even regretful. When Bushroot turned to look at Steelbeak, he found the rooster already staring at him, a tired, sorrowful look in his eyes.  
  
Suddenly Bushroot felt full of things to say to him. He wanted to ask a million questions, give a million answers and most of all, he wanted to tell Steelbeak that he *was*, in fact, attracted to him, in both male and female form. Instead he turned down Steelbeak's covers and smoothed down the sheet, "I think. I think maybe you should go to sleep now. if. there's something we should talk about. well, it should wait until tomorrow"  
  
Steelbeak obediently crawled under the covers, suddenly too tired to argue. Bushroot made as if to leave, when Steelbeak grasped his wrist. "could you. stay wid me tonight?" there was unhidden pleading in Steelbeak's eyes that Bushroot tried not to think about, lest he assume too much. "please?"  
  
Bushroot suddenly found the possibility of leaving Steelbeak alone like this as impossible as setting fire to his beloved plants. He shrugged out of his coat and pants and crawled in beside Steelbeak. The rooster's body was warm, and he stiffened at first, then relaxed as Steelbeak snuggled up to him. Within 30 seconds, Steelbeak was snoring. Bushroot reached over the edge of the bed and removed the syringes from his coat pocket. Carefully, he took Steelbeak's arm, found a vein, and inserted the needle. Steelbeak snorted once, but didn't wake up. Bushroot placed the empty syringe on the bedside table next to the full one. he then lay back down and closed his eyes. If Steelbeak felt uncomfortable being alone tonight, it would certainly be wrong to leave him, wouldn't it. Bushroot drifted off into the most content sleep he'd had in a long time, wrapped in the warm scent of Steelbeak's body.  
  
**************  
  
Bushroot awoke to morning sunlight streaming in through the cracks between the curtains. He immediately knew something was different. He sat up, and observed that he had been resting his head on a feathery, broad, male chest. He peeked at Steelbeak's face, and found that his crest and flap of skin on his chin had returned. He was guiltily tempted to see if Steelbeak was *completely* male, but his morals kept him from peering inside the sleeping rooster's shorts. He checked Steelbeak's breathing, found that it was normal, as well as his heartbeat and his coloring. He silently slipped out of bed and pulled on his pants, throwing his coat over his arm. He stole a last, longing look at Steelbeak, then slipped out of the door. He wasn't sure at all what a sober Steelbeak would think to wake up to Bushroot in his bed. he probably wouldn't even remember being put to bed, and pleading with Bushroot to stay with him.  
  
Bushroot pulled on his jacket and left the apartment. He walked back to his greenhouse, enjoying the sunlight as it energized his cells, encouraging them towards their photosynthetic duties. By the time he reached his home, he felt refreshed, though no less thoughtful about the night before. He watered his plants, and opened the roof to his greenhouse to let the sun in. he attempted to busy himself. He turned the soil in all the flowerpots, played catch with Spike, and performed vairous other menial tasks in order to clear his head. It wasn't happening.  
  
He was so absorbed in his own thoughts, staring vacantly up at the sky from his seat at the base of a tall oak, that he didn't hear Steelbeak approaching.  
  
"ya slipped away from me, 'dis mornin'"  
  
Bushroot uttered a high-pitched yelp and jumped a full two feet in the air. He spun around and faced Steelbeak, who was dressed in his usual attire. Bushroot's expression was so guilt-filled that Steelbeak found it hard not to laugh.  
  
"uuh, well, I wasn't sure if you'd remember last night, and I didn't want you to be mad at me, so I. er. well. do you remember last night?"  
  
"yeah. I do. I wanna thank youse fer takin' care 'a me."  
  
"y-you're welcome."  
  
"dat's not the only reason I came here, though." Steelbeak approached Bushroot, who's heart was beginning to pound.  
  
"I-it's not?"  
  
"youse forgot some'tin."  
  
Bushroot felt his breath catch in his throat as Steelbeak stopped close enough to him that they could have kissed. He wanted to ask Steelbeak "what?" but the words wouldn't come out of his mouth.  
  
Steelbeak put his hand in his pocket and drew out the familiar syringe, filled with the cloudy liquid. "doctah's orders."  
  
"oh. Of course." Bushroot took the syringe and appeared to be totally immersed in the act of uncapping it and finding the same vein in Steelbeak's arm. He kept his eyes glued to his task, so Steelbeak wouldn't see the tears in them. what an idiot. How could he possibly have expected anything else from Steelbeak? Steelbeak was a suave, smooth-talking, attractive rooster and he was a scrawny, green, plant-duck hybrid with Seasonal Affective Disorder. He finished inserting the liquid and, keeping his eyes down, began to turn away. A strong hand rested on his shoulder while another one gently took his chin and tipped his head up until he met the agent's eyes. "I ain't finished wid you yet, Reginald." Steelbeak whispered, smiling. He then leaned forward and gently pressed his beak to Bushroot's. the plant-duck nearly swooned, and leaned into the kiss, placing his hands on Steelbeak's broad chest. The rooster encircled Bushroot's back with his arms.  
  
The kiss seemed to last forever, and rose both parties to a euphoria neither had ever imagined. It signalled the beginning of something they had both longed for, both dreamed of and both needed.  
  
Steelbeak finally pulled back, "well, what'd ya tink 'a dat?"  
  
"better than Miracle-Gro!" Bushroot sighed.  
  
Steelbeak chuckled and they sat side-by-side beneath the tree. "maybe we should talk ta dat scientist friend 'a yours about aphrodesiacs." Steelbeak snickered.  
  
Bushroot blushed and let out an embarrassed giggle.  
  
Words weren't needed, though both had millions to say. They sat in simple silence, their touch speaking volumes to the other, and looked forward to each progressive moment.  
  
*********  
  
Alright, so, there it was. 'Is that all?' you ask. definitely not, I'm waaaaaaay too fond of these characters to end it there. I may merge this story with the one that comes after Dynasty Ducks. I still have to brainstorm about that one a bit. If anyone has ideas about that they'd like to share, input is greatly appreciated. Stay tuned, steel/bush fans!! 


End file.
